


Hunting, Medieval Style

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mild D/s, mild bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas Eve, Arthur finds himself at a club that's organised a kinky pseudo-medieval hunting game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting, Medieval Style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpectralProngs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpectralProngs/gifts).



Arthur hates the place as soon as he sets foot in it. It’s smoke-filled and smells of alcohol and arousal. But he’s here for a reason.

The games have already begun, and he shoulders his way through the small crowd until he finds a spot with a good view of the small stage. A girl is standing barefoot on the gleaming wood, wearing little more than scraps of red silk. Her lips match her outfit, soft and shiny and crimson. Her eyes are demurely lowered, lids glittering with red. Her fingernails and toenails are painted to match, and her bare stomach has a large painted mural of a fiery dragon. Her delicate wrists are wrapped in a thin golden chain that’s attached to the golden collar around her neck.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ the tuxedoed host says into his mic, ‘let’s hear it for Rihanna!’ 

Arthur does a mental eye-roll. Everyone knows the ‘captives’ don’t give their real names, and each of them is bound to have chosen something exotic. There are several murmurs of interest as ‘Rihanna’ twirls around, her barely-there skirt lifting to reveal a tight, sequined thong that hides exactly nothing.

‘That one’s mine,’ a curly-haired woman next to him says, taking a drag off her long cigarette holder. 

‘In your dreams,’ the woman next to her says, taking a sip from her glass of wine. 

‘Is that a challenge?’

‘Oh, you are so on.’

Arthur snorts into his glass of whiskey and soda. Good humour emerges from somewhere inside him, or perhaps from his drink. He’s not picky about where it’s coming from. Downing the rest of his drink, he signals a waiter for another. 

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ the host says again. ‘Let’s hear it for… Merrrrrrlin!’

Arthur turns his attention back to the stage. Standing on it is a tall young man with shiny black hair that’s artfully arrayed in messy curls over his forehead and behind his ears. His chest is bare, and his lower half is encased in tight lycra trousers. Like the previous ‘slave’s, his feet are bare. He’s not exactly Schwarzenegger, but his chest gleams with subdued strength. Jesus, Arthur can smell from ten feet away the sandalwood oil that they’ve used to get his torso to gleam under the lights.

Merlin’s eyes are lowered, and Arthur can see the sparkly grey eyeshadow on his lids. Merlin’s chains are silver, and thicker than Rihanna’s. He’s holding his wrists crossed in front of the V of his trousers, the chain snaking up between his pectorals to the stark black collar that’s snug around his throat.

Arthur feels his cock twitch with interest. He keeps his eyes on Merlin as the guy turns around slowly. There are gasps and a few moans of delight from the crowd, and Arthur bites down savagely on his lower lip.

Merlin's trousers are… non-existent at the back. There’s a thin strap of black running between his arse cheeks, but that’s about it. As his audience watches, Merlin bends over, his long legs spreading with slow, obscene grace, revealing the flared base of a plug between his cheeks. The strip of lycra does nothing to hide the stretched skin of his arsehole, gleaming with lube as it clutches at the wide plug forcing it open. 

‘Fucking _slut_ ,’ a man snarls from a couple of rows in front of Arthur, voice hoarse with lust. ‘Just you wait till I get my hands on you.’

People whistle and jeer and applaud. Lewd comments are not only tolerated at the club, but encouraged. Arthur’s kind of dizzy with lust himself—and more than a little disgusted at himself for being turned on by the lewd display—but he has to fight the urge to throw his glass at the back of the man’s head. No one should be spoken to like that, not even a guy who’s obviously being paid to look sexy and get fucked.

Merlin seems unfazed. He turns back around to take a bow. The guy in the audience who’s obviously intending to claim Merlin unzips his trousers and takes out his cock, thrusting it toward Merlin and fondling himself as he leers at Merlin. ‘Whatdja say, boy? Can’t wait to bugger you with my fuck rod.’

Arthur can’t help himself. He laughs out loud. Merlin lifts his head at the sound, fixing piercing blue eyes on Arthur. He looks vaguely amused. Arthur raises his glass, takes a sip. Merlin gives him a small nod, no more than a tilt of the head, a tiny smile flickering at the corners of his mouth. If anything, his face looks even more alluring than the rest of him—high cheekbones, flushed skin, full lips shiny with gloss, startling eyes lined with kohl, a strong jawline. Arthur can’t take his eyes off him.

His thoughts and gaze are interrupted by a hard push against his shoulder. ‘You find something funny, mate?’ It’s the guy who seems set on humiliating Merlin. 

‘Huh?’ The man shoves Arthur again. ‘What the fuck is your problem, anyway?’

Arthur shrugs. ‘I don’t have a problem, _mate_. Don’t touch me again if you know what’s good for you.’

‘Or what?’ the guy sneers. His breath is thick with the smell of alcohol. 

‘Look, just forget it, all right?’

‘Whatever,’ the man says. ‘I got dibs on that piece of meat, get it? Stay outta my way and you won’t get hurt.’

‘He’s a person,’ Arthur says, irritated.

‘Not tonight he isn’t. He’s a fuckhole, and he’s mine, you got that?’

Arthur’s eyes narrow, his blood aching for a good fight. It’s been a while. ‘Not if I claim him first,’ he says.

 

\--

 

The ‘hunt’ has been arranged on the club’s expansive private grounds. The hunters are provided with horses and lassos, and the ‘slaves’ are going to run on foot. It isn’t going to be much of a contest, but then that’s not the point of the game.

Tents have been set up throughout the extravagantly well-lit grounds. Each tent is dressed up in faux-medieval finery, pennants fluttering atop them and expensive rugs and luxurious beds furnishing the interiors. Arthur glances into one of them and thinks briefly of Merlin spread out on the silken sheets, bare skin and chains gleaming in the lamplight. He clicks his tongue and pulls lightly on the reins of his horse. She’s a good animal, strong and well-trained. He lines her up with the other horses, all mounted and ready to go. There are about twenty competitors, and he catches the eye of the man who’d harassed Merlin earlier.

‘May the best man win!’ the man calls jovially, taking a swig from a silver flask. 

Arthur looks away without acknowledging him. He knows it’s not in the spirit of the game, but the thought of the guy’s hands on Merlin makes him want to put his fist through the guy’s face. 

The preys are given a five-minute head start. The group of scantily-clad men and women disappear down the path, most of them laughing and talking as they run. Arthur sees ‘Rihanna’ running hand-in-hand with another girl, both of them looking excited and cheerful. 

Arthur’s probably taking this whole thing way too seriously, but he’s damned if he’s letting that man get to Merlin first.

Arthur’s off at a gallop as soon as the host blows the whistle for them to start. The road forks into two almost immediately, and he has no idea which way Merlin went. One path is more brightly-lit than the other. Following his instincts, Arthur takes the darker one, slowing his horse to a canter. There’s no one in sight, but he hears laughter from a clump of bushes nearby. A horse emerges onto the path, its rider a blonde in her forties or so, her arm around the waist of a laughing young man. They’re kissing.

Ignoring them, Arthur canters on. He hears the clip clop of hooves behind him, but keeps his eyes on the path. He sees no one else ahead of him until the path broadens into a large clearing. Gaily decorated tents are littered across it, most of them already occupied. The occupants of the tent nearest to Arthur haven’t bothered to shut the curtains. Rihanna is sprawled across the large mattress inside, practically being devoured by the two women who’d been talking about her earlier. One of them has her face buried between the girl’s legs, and the other is sucking on one of her nipples. Rihanna’s head is thrown back, her face contorted with bliss. Arthur’s cock throbs, and he imagines Merlin spread out like that for him.

‘Arthur!’

He spots Merlin before he hears him yell, but he’s distracted by the sight of his competitor. The man is close behind Merlin, circling his lasso over his head like someone from a bad Western. 

‘Duck!’ Arthur yells, and Merlin throws himself to the ground, the loop of rope missing him by inches. Grinning, the man dismounts and hurls himself on top of Merlin.

Arthur’s off his horse in a second, seeing red at the sight of the man practically humping Merlin on the ground. Merlin, slippery as an eel, slides out from under the man and jumps to his feet. Before Arthur’s aware of what he’s planning, he takes a flying leap onto Arthur’s horse.

‘You coming, or what?’ he asks, grinning, holding out a hand.

Arthur takes it.

 

\--

 

They ride for a few minutes, Arthur behind Merlin, his arms around Merlin’s waist. Merlin’s a good rider, and Arthur lets him hold onto the reins.

‘Where are we going?’ he asks after a bit.

‘Just a little further,’ Merlin says over his shoulder. ‘It’s quieter here.’

It really is. It’s quite beautiful, really—hardly any noise in the air, just the breeze and the soft clacking of the horse’s hooves against the stone path, stars studding the moonless sky over their heads.

Merlin stops in front of a red tent. ‘I like this one.’ He slides gracefully off the horse, and Arthur follows. He glances into the tent. ‘It’ll do, I suppose.’

Merlin laughs. ‘You always this grumpy?’

‘You allowed to talk to me that way?’ Arthur takes off his coat and throws it over a chair, loosening his tie. 

Merlin shrugs, throwing himself down on the bed. ‘You going to fuck me, or what?’

Arthur looks down at him. Merlin’s all long limbs and lean torso and sweet-smelling decadence, and Arthur’s only human. ‘Turn over.’

Merlin meets his eyes for a moment, and Arthur wills himself not to suck in his breath. The moment is gone all too soon, and Merlin turns over onto his stomach.

Placing one knee on the bed, Arthur bends over him, putting both his hands on Merlin’s arse cheeks and spreading them open. The plug’s gone now but Merlin’s hole is still open, shiny and a little swollen from being held open. Unthinking, Arthur moves between Merlin’s legs and puts his mouth on it. His tongue slips in easily, Merlin’s stretched-open channel yielding to Arthur’s mouth, clenching involuntarily around his tongue. Merlin lets out a muffled gasp, his hips arching up for more. Arthur holds him down by the hips and dips his tongue in again, and again, loving the heady taste of Merlin’s soft, warm flesh.

‘Fuck.’ Merlin tries to squirm, push back for more, and Arthur stills him with a sharp slap to his thigh, making him gasp. 

‘Stay still,’ he warns. Merlin lets out a whine of protest, but obediently goes still and pliant under Arthur’s hands. 

Arthur lowers his mouth to Merlin’s hole again, and tongues around his rim until Merlin is letting out little whimpers of pleasure. ‘More, please, more.’

Arthur lifts his head briefly. ‘Shut up or I’ll gag you.’

‘Just _fuck_ me, already.’

‘Maybe I don’t want to.’ Arthur licks a wet stripe up the crease of Merlin’s arse. ‘Maybe I just want to hear you beg.’

‘Fucking _prat_.’ Merlin tries to squirm again, but Arthur clamps his hands down hard on his hips, not letting him move an inch.

‘Language, Merlin.’ Arthur sits up and slaps Merlin again, more lightly this time. ‘Don’t move.’

He moves to the small table beside the bed and slides open the drawer. Ignoring the plugs and vibrators, he gets out the bottle of lube and another item that catches his eye. 

Merlin lifts his head. ‘A riding crop? Are you fucking kidding me?’

Arthur sighs. ‘What did I just tell you?’

Merlin lies back down, making a disgruntled sound. ‘You’re having way too much fun ordering me around.’

‘I thought ordering you around was the point of this game.’

‘It’s not a game.’ Merlin rolls over on his back, crossing his wrists above his head. ‘I take my job _very_ seriously.’

‘Do you?’ Straddling him, Arthur reaches for the cuffs on his wrists and clicks them shut, binding Merlin’s hands together.

‘Mm-hm.’ Merlin looks up at him, all painted eyes and parted lips. He runs the tip of his tongue over his lips, getting them wet.

Arthur touches his cheek, sliding his fingers up into Merlin’s hair and grasping a handful.

‘Ow,’ Merlin says. ‘That hurts.’

‘It should.’ Arthur tightens his hand into a fist, tugging Merlin’s head back on the pillow.

‘Why are you—’

‘That man. The one who wanted to… if he’d caught you first—’

‘I wouldn’t have let him touch me.’

‘He did touch you. He was on top of you, and I—’

‘Arthur,’ Merlin says firmly. His eyes glow, and no matter how many times Arthur sees him do this, it’s always going to be hot. Merlin glances at the curtains fluttering in the breeze and they draw shut under his gaze, lacing themselves up quietly. Merlin turns his eyes back to Arthur. ‘You had nothing to worry about.’

Arthur kisses him then, slow and deep, until Merlin’s toes curl and he arches up into Arthur, his cock hard and wet between them. ‘Fuck me,’ Merlin says into his mouth. ‘Arthur, please.’

‘You liked it.’ Arthur bites at Merlin’s mouth, his jaw. ‘All those people looking at you. Displaying yourself.’

‘For you,’ Merlin gasps, baring his throat for Arthur to bite. He’s still got his black collar on and fuck, it’s hot. ‘Only for you, Arthur.’

‘Yeah?’ Arthur draws back for a minute, searching Merlin’s face.

‘You’re such an idiot sometimes,’ Merlin says, fond.

Arthur lifts an eyebrow. ‘Says the one who’s dressed like a painted whore.’

‘You love it. Admit it.’

Arthur picks up the lube and slathers his fingers with it. ‘You’—he drives two fingers deep into Merlin—‘will be the death of me.’

Merlin pushes back against his fingers. ‘Fucking finally. Get on with it, would you?’

Arthur slides his fingers out and picks up the crop. ‘You’re going to be sorry by the time I’m done with you.’

‘Yeah?’ Merlin asks, sounding interested. ‘What are you planning to do with that?’

Arthur shakes his head, smiling. ‘I don’t suppose you’re even the slightest bit afraid?’

‘No, but I could pretend to be, if you like.’ Merlin looks up at him with a cheeky grin. ‘Does that turn you on, Arthur? The thought of someone at your mercy?’

‘The thought of you at my mercy,’ Arthur corrects him, tapping his thigh with the crop. ‘Spread your legs.’

Merlin does as told, biting his lip as he bares himself to Arthur. Arthur runs the head of the riding crop up and down the crack of Merlin’s arse, pausing at his hole to nudge against it. ‘You ready?’

‘You’re seriously going to fuck me with that thing?’

‘Either get fucked by it, or get whipped. Your choice.’

‘I hate you.’ Merlin’s clutching the pillow with his bound hands, hips already pushing against the crop.

‘I know you do.’ Arthur slides it in slowly, eyes on Merlin’s face. ‘This okay?’

‘Fuck, yes.’

‘Slut,’ Arthur says, affectionate. He presses a kiss against the inside of Merlin’s thigh, following it up with a bite. He keeps pushing the crop in and out of Merlin’s hole, a little deeper each time, as he teases Merlin with his lips and tongue. A slow lick up the centre of his cock, a curl of tongue over his balls, a nuzzle against his perineum, Arthur’s nose pressing against it as the crop slides in deeper and Merlin arches his hips off the bed, cursing. 

Arthur smiles against Merlin’s skin, tongue dipping into the crease between Merlin’s crotch and thigh. ‘Good?’

‘I’d say it’s good, but I don’t want your head to swell even more,’ Merlin says, panting.

‘Always with the insults, Merlin.’ Arthur nudges Merlin’s legs even further apart with his shoulders, settling in place to lick at Merlin’s rim again. ‘So hot with the crop sticking out of you,’ he murmurs, lapping around the hard rubber of the handle. He’s not going to push further, even if Merlin can take more. He rotates the handle, and Merlin keens, pushing himself against Arthur’s mouth.

‘Love this, don’t you?’ Arthur pushes lightly at the crop, finding Merlin’s prostate again. ‘Love being spread open and filled up. All for me.’

‘Always,’ Merlin gasps.

‘Think _he_ would’ve done this to you? Taken his time opening you up?’

‘Sure,’ Merlin says, going for an airy tone of voice and missing by miles.

Arthur yanks the crop out and gives it a quick wipe with the tail of his shirt. He presses it lengthwise between Merlin’s teeth. ‘Hold that. Don’t you dare fucking let it drop.’

Merlin grins up at him, teeth clamped obediently over the crop, eyes shining.

Arthur guides Merlin’s legs up over his shoulders and slides into him. Merlin’s eyes clench shut as Arthur bottoms out inside him, and Arthur leans over him, bending Merlin almost in half, his fists on either side of Merlin’s head. ‘This what you wanted?’ Arthur asks, kissing Merlin’s eyelids in turn. He brushes his lips over Merlin’s nose, his cheeks. He tugs the riding crop away from Merlin’s mouth.

‘You know it is.’ Merlin opens his eyes. ‘You can move now.’

‘I’ll move when I want to.’ Arthur bends his head and sucks one of Merlin’s nipples into his mouth.

‘Bossy.’ Merlin clenches his hole around Arthur’s cock, and fuck, Arthur’s never going to get used to this, no matter how many times Merlin offers himself up for the taking like this.

He pulls out of Merlin and thrusts back in. ‘So good, Merlin. So fucking tight.’

‘Bet you say that to all the boys,’ Merlin says around a gasp, pushing up for more.

‘Actually, the last one was tighter than you. Better looking, too.’ Arthur thrusts again, and Merlin somehow manages to look both incredibly turned on and annoyed at the same time.

‘Bastard.’

‘That’s enough talk from you.’ Arthur pushes the crop back into Merlin’s mouth, setting up a punishing rhythm. 

Merlin lifts his arms and puts them around Arthur’s neck, hanging on as Arthur pounds into him. ‘Just the idea,’ Arthur says, ‘of someone else having you like this. Taking you like this.’ He punctuates his words with hard thrusts, heady with the way Merlin’s body clutches at him, sucking him in like he belongs there. He licks at Merlin’s lips, pushing his tongue into Merlin’s mouth over the crop. ‘Don’t you dare,’ he whispers into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin shakes his head, clenching his teeth over the crop again.

Arthur leaves it there and tugs Merlin’s head back by his hair, biting at his throat, loving the choked off moans Merlin lets out as he writhes under Arthur, fucking himself on Arthur’s cock, matching Arthur thrust for thrust. Arthur straightens up and fucks into Merlin as hard as he can, hands clamped over Merlin’s thighs to keep him from falling off Arthur’s lap. Merlin’s hauled up with him, his bound arms still trapped around Arthur’s neck. Arthur lets go of his legs and wraps his arms around Merlin, holding him in place and fucking up into him. Merlin’s eyes are feral as he rides Arthur, fingers threaded into the hair at Arthur’s nape, pulling hard enough to hurt.

‘Not gonna let you come,’ Arthur says, teeth gritted as he feels his orgasm build. ‘Keep you like this, hard and wet and wanting.’

Merlin lets the crop fall between them, hissing as it brushes against his neglected cock. ‘Don’t want to come,’ he says. ‘Just want to keep doing this.’ He tightens his fingers in Arthur’s hair and devours his mouth, tongue pushing in and licking hungrily around the inside of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur grabs his arse with both hands and squeezes hard, moving Merlin in time with his thrusts, shuddering and crying out into Merlin’s mouth as he comes hard.

Merlin doesn’t stop moving, relenting only when he’s wrung every last drop of pleasure from Arthur.

‘You meant it?’ Merlin asks, kissing Arthur gently. ‘Not going to let me come?’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Arthur murmurs, kissing him back, slow, sweet. He ducks out from under Merlin’s arms and pushes him back against the bed. Pushing Merlin’s legs apart, he dives at Merlin’s hole, moaning at the taste of his come trickling out of Merlin’s body.

‘Arthur, fuck.’ Merlin wriggles like a fish, over-sensitive. Arthur licks gently at him, Merlin’s bound hands clenched in his hair. Arthur fucks him with his tongue, licking inside him, teasing him until Merlin’s gasping and pleading, his thighs quivering. Then he lifts his head and thrusts two fingers inside Merlin as he swallows his cock whole.

The curtains catch fire when Merlin comes, his eyes blazing gold.

 

\--

 

It’s two in the morning when they finally stumble into their own bed, exhausted. 

‘Liked your Christmas present?’ Merlin asks sleepily, threading his fingers into Arthur’s hair.

‘Mmm.’ Arthur kisses Merlin’s shoulder, pushing his face into the space between Merlin’s neck and the pillow. ‘Wait until morning, and I’ll show you just how much I liked it.’

‘Insatiable,’ Merlin murmurs, pressing a kiss into Arthur’s hair.

‘I should be. I have centuries to make up for.’

He feels Merlin smile against his hair, and tightens his arm around Merlin’s waist.


End file.
